


I Will Love You Anyway

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skimmons Arranged Marriage AU. Jemma is set to marry a man, while she's secretly still so very much in love with Skye, who decides to drop by unannounced, but is it too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Love You Anyway

The dress is gorgeous, Jemma has to admit that, but she simply cannot suppress the feeling in the pit off her stomach. She feels slightly sick thinking about the day ahead of her. It’s not like she has a choice though. Her parents were probably right – this was the best and only way to go at it. 

Jemma Simmons would get married with someone they proposed. She liked him, she did. He was a nice guy, but you didn’t marry a nice guy. You went to the movies with a nice guy on a Tuesday morning because you didn’t have to go to work. You didn’t spend your entire Sunday in bed with a nice guy, drinking odd tasting coffee, and last week’s newspaper. 

 

But it looked like she might end up doing just that. She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, cursing slightly when she realises that they had already done her hair and make-up. They were just mere hours away from the inevitable. The engagement ring suddenly felt really heavy on her hand, especially knowing that she knew who she’d rather marry, but that person wasn’t the one who gave her this ring. 

She swallowed thickly and put a smile on her face when someone knocked at the door. 

“There you are, darling. Are you ready to put on your dress? We need to get going.”

“Yes, mother. Thank you.”

She dreads the car ride. Her parents are chattering on about how happy they are that their little girl is getting married. She is becoming a woman. Jemma scrunches her nose, but tries not to look too disgusted. It just weighs heavy on her heart that she’s condemned to this marriage. She realises, though, that her parents want the best for her and that this man is a very nice fit for her. But it also takes away so much. She would leave behind an entire life. An entire love.

The last set of preparations is a blur. A touch-up on her make-up and hair. She’s strapped into her dress, shoes are put on her feet and before she knows it she’s standing outside the double doors with a thundering heart and a ring in her ears.

“Wait! Wait one second.” She takes a deep breath to prevent the room from spinning. Maybe this will work, she thinks. Maybe you’ll fall in love with him and you’ll live the life that’s planned out for you. Maybe, just maybe it will all work out in the end. She has to keep repeating that it’ll be fine like a mantra in her head, or she’s afraid that she might faint.

“Okay. I’m ready.” Her voice barely quivers.

The music starts playing and she takes her father’s hand, who is brimming with pride and wearing a really nice suit. They strut down the aisle, everything going perfectly as plan. He looks really handsome and happy, standing at the altar, happy to take her hand from her father who kisses her cheek and then goes to sit down with Jemma’s mother. 

“You look really beautiful,” he whispers and she smiles. He’s a nice guy. He is.

“Welcome, family, friends, and loved once. We have gathered here today to celebrate the unique love between Jemma and Michael. You have come here to share this experience with them, to share this formal commitment, and to support their marriage to come.”

Fitz is her best man and he looks happy, but he misses that glint in his eyes that would make him happy. He knows she’s not happy, but she also knows he’s not going to say a word. He won’t be ‘that guy’ at the wedding. He shoots her a reassuring smile.

The officiant just talks and talks, but Jemma only hears half of it, her head spinning with everything she hears about the importance of friendship in a strong marriage, an adventure with dedication and perseverance. And then everyone rises. She hears the rustling of dresses and suits. People clear their throats and she keeps that smile on her face. As if she’s happy, while all she really wants to do is cry. But she’s like Fitz, in that way. She won’t be ‘that girl’ at the wedding. She won’t run away, she won’t leave this nice guy standing at the altar. She’ll probably just say yes because she’s too polite.

“… are present here today, surround them in love, and support their marriage? Speak now, or take your objection to the grave.”

Some people cheer and everyone says ‘we will’ in unison. Fitz doesn’t speak up, neither does Trip.

“You may be seated. It’s time to read your vows to one another.”

Michael turns to her and she adjusts her dress slightly before taking his hands. 

“I, Michael, take you Jemma, to be my wedded wife, my constant friend and partner, and my love. I will –“

“Wait!”

She turns to the crowd to see whose voice it was, because it sounds familiar. But she realises it’s her own. She slaps her hand against her mouth, ready to make an apology, when someone pushes the door of the chapel open.

“Am I too late? Please tell me it’s not too late. Please stop. Jemma, wait!” The shout is almost desperate. Clicking heels are muffled by the carpet.

“Well, kind of. But Jemma managed to put a halt to this ordeal just a second ago,” Fitz snorts and Ward gently shoves him.

“Ordeal?” 

“Skye?” Jemma asks, entirely ignoring her father and Fitz.

“I missed the ‘speak now or forever shut your face’ part, right?” she whispers and Jemma nods slowly.

“Okay, then… I will… Yes… Well…”

“What is she doing here, Jemma?” She jerks her head towards the sound of her mother and is at a loss of what to say.

Because what should she say? Mother, I am in love with someone else? I love someone else, but you would never allow me to marry that person. You would never allow me to marry her, even though anyone would say that Skye looks absolutely breathtaking, wearing a fitted tuxedo that hugs her just in the right places. She can tell that Skye tried to tie her own bowtie, but that it was harder than she anticipated. But she did it anyway.

“She…”

“She is in love with her, Mary…” Fitz pipes up and swats Ward away. He moves over to stand with Skye, who nods.

“Who is in love with whom?” The woman looks like she’s been hit in the face with a brick, which might as well have been the case at that point in time.

“I am in love with your daughter. And Jemma is…” Skye is cut off by the bride. 

“Jemma is very much in love with Skye,” Jemma answers for herself and moves away from the altar. She’s finally getting rid of the frozenness in her legs. “I’m sorry, mother. I’m so very sorry, but I can’t marry him.”

Suddenly it hits Jemma how bizarre this situation is. People are whispering at the trio standing three quarters of the way into the aisle. Fitz and Skye are standing next to each other, both in a tuxedo. She’s wearing a poofy wedding dress, looking like a meringue.

Skye reaches inside her jacket and pulls out something shaped like a rectangle and roughly the size of a credit card.

“I know this is a terrible time,” Skye starts with a furious blush on her face, “and I know I should have said something earlier. I know I should have stopped this thing earlier but I couldn’t and you couldn’t and Fitz didn’t either,” she scowls, and the crowd actually laughs.

“But that doesn’t matter, Jem. It doesn’t matter now, because if I’m not too late. If your father will let me, and if you’ll have me, Jemma Simmons, I would like to ask you if you’d maybe want to marry me. It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow. It can be five years from now for all I care. I love you and I want to be with you and we’ll both be forever sorry if you say yes to him, and no to me today. Or you can say no to the both of us, the situation is weird enough so that doesn’t make a change.”

Skye presses her thumb and index finger to the sides of the card and it clicks open, unfolding like a book and a ring twists out in the middle. It’s beautiful and Skye smiles at her sheepishly when she gets down on one knee.

“Here we go, alright. Jemma? Bear with me. I might cry.” 

“Skye?” Her voice is barely audible, but doesn’t shake. Because for the first time in forever she knows that this is exactly the answer she needs to give. That this, against all odds, is where she belongs. She laughs softly and wipes at the corners of her eye. Skye hasn’t even started yet.

“Jemma Simmons, I know I might not be perfect. We probably couldn’t be more different. We both know I’m a terrible cook, for example, and I’ll probably drool on you in my sleep. But in all seriousness, Jemma. I can’t promise I won’t hurt you, but I can promise that I will always be honest with you and I can’t promise that we won’t go through rough patches, but I can promise you that I will try my best to always apologise. I can’t promise you that we won’t fight sometimes over silly and serious, but I can promise you that you will never ever have to doubt that I love you and that we will never go to bed angry. I promise that I will try every day, as if it’s my last day, to make you happy. I will love you anyway, and I know, god, I know that the rest of our lives is a bloody long time, but with you time always seems to short. So Jemma Simmons, will you marry me anyway?”

“Oh, Skye… Yes, yes of course. I do.” 

She nearly sobs, but realises that there are tears forming in the corners of Skye’s eyes too. Skye is a mess and this wedding ceremony is a train wreck. But doesn’t matter because she doesn’t think she has ever seen Skye smile so brightly before. She stands up and scoops Jemma up in her arms, twirling them around in a blur of penguin and meringue. Jemma brushes one of the few loose strands out of Skye’s face when they finally land and stands up on her tiptoes to kiss her. 

“We are engayged,” Skye whispers and snorts from laughing too hard. “I’m sorry, that was terrible. Forgive me. I love you.”

“I love you too, weirdo.”

Skye kisses her again, hard. It’s far from perfect. It’s definitely not the best kiss they’ve shared and probably not the worst there is, but that doesn’t matter. Because in the end everyone had gathered there that day to witness a declaration of love and a solidification of all that was and wasn’t between them. Skye will love her anyway and in all honesty: she couldn’t imagine her life without her.


End file.
